


the wanted man

by biblionerd07



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Civil War (Marvel), Divided Avengers, Established Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wants to bring the Winter Soldier in to answer for his crimes.  Steve's not going to go along with that plan.  (Civil War story line speculation.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Marcus Hinton opens his eyes and sees the man standing over him with a raised eyebrow, he shudders. It's the metal armed assassin from that fight with Captain America in DC six months ago. He'd seen the news footage. He's tied to a chair and his head aches where the assassin hit him in the head.

“What do you want with me?” Marcus tries to keep his voice from shaking. The assassin stares at him for a minute, head tipped to the side.

“Who sent you?” He asks instead of answering Marcus.

“What?”

“Who sent you to Captain America's residence?” The man doesn't have the black mask he wore in DC, but Marcus can't pick out any expression on his face even without it.

“I—”

“Why were you there?” The man cuts him off. His voice is quiet but rough. Marcus presses his lips together tightly and the man almost smirks at him before pulling out a knife. Marcus swallows hard.

“He—I was sent to dig up dirt,” Marcus admits quickly. There's finally an emotion on the man's face, but it doesn't make Marcus feel any better, because it's cold fury. He leans up close, right in Marcus's face.

“The Captain has no dirt,” he hisses. “Who sent you?”

Marcus's breath is picking up. The knife is very, very close to his thigh. “Tony Stark!” He blurts, voice a little high pitched. He doesn't see the metal arm come up to knock him out again.

 

“I'm just saying, we need to look harder for the Winter Soldier,” Tony repeats himself stubbornly. Steve very carefully does not cross his arms over his chest.

“You can look as hard as you want,” Natasha tells him, sounding bored. “You'll never find him until he lets himself be found.”

“I don't think we should waste resources on a manhunt that's never going to come to fruition,” Steve says evenly. Tony snaps his head around to glare at Steve.

“Oh, I know why you think we _shouldn't waste resources_ ,” Tony sneers. Steve keeps his face impassive. “Just because you think he was once upon a time your long lost—”

Steve's fist comes down hard on the table, and he's almost as surprised as everyone else. “Don't,” He warns, teeth clenched.

“Tony,” Bruce says placatingly. “You saw the pictures of that bank vault.”

“There's no evidence he was kept there,” Tony insists. The edge of the table creaks in protest where Steve's holding onto it too tightly. “We have no real evidence he was tortured and brainwashed. We need to bring him in and hand him over to the authorities so they can decide—”

Steve interrupts him again by snapping the arm rest of his chair. It's mostly an accident. “I'm not sitting here for this,” He snarls, pushing back from the table and storming out. It's the third time he's walked out of a meeting in as many weeks. Tony wants to bring Bucky in. Steve refuses to even discuss it. As he walks out, he hears Natasha's voice, low and angry, chiding Tony.

He rides the train home, back to Brooklyn where he's living these days since he left DC but won't move into the Tower. He might've considered it if not for Tony's stance on Bucky. He pours himself a cup of coffee when he gets in and has just put a chocolate chip banana muffin on a plate to set it hopefully on the windowsill when said window opens and Bucky pops through. Steve jumps.

“Jeez, Buck!” He shakes the spilled coffee off his hand. “Scared me to death. Where've you been? It's been two days.”

“Why is Tony Stark sending people to dig up dirt on you?” Bucky never tells Steve where he goes when he disappears. At least he didn't vault over to Steve and cover his mouth; he must've already swept the room and determined there are no bugs. Steve stares at him.

“What?”

“Three men have entered your apartment while you were out in the last two days. All of them admitted Stark sent them.”

Steve has a lot of questions about everything in that sentence; questions about why Bucky's been monitoring his apartment but not coming inside, where he went, what _admitted_ exactly entails. He's learned by now Bucky won't answer any of those, though, so he settles for handing Bucky his coffee and pouring another mug for himself.

“I don't know,” He says with a shrug. Bucky gives him a look. He's always been able to tell when Steve's lying.

“He knows I'm here. Or he thinks he knows. You're not safe with me here.” He shakes his head.

“I'm not safe with you _not_ here,” Steve points out. “If you didn't grab those guys, who knows what would've happened. Tony might've finally found out if I wear boxers or briefs.”

Bucky purses his lips. “This isn't a joke, Steve. I need to leave. For good.”

“No, you don't. You can hide perfectly fine from here.”

“Obviously not,” Bucky huffs. “You're not good at this, Steve. You show too much on your face.”

“I haven't shown anything!” Steve argues, though it _is_ true that if one of them's slipping up the chances of it being Bucky are almost none. “Stark's mad because I won't agree to looking for you and bringing you in.”

“Maybe you should. Throw him off.” Bucky starts pacing.

“I'm not letting anyone think, even for a second, that I'd turn you in,” Steve throws back.

“It's too dangerous, Steve, I should go, I—”

“Where you go, I go!” Steve explodes. “Can't you see that by now? The most dangerous thing for me is you leaving.”

Bucky's stopped from saying anything else by footsteps down the exterior hallway. He's halfway out the window before Steve realizes and makes a desperate face.

 _I'll be back_ , Bucky mouths, exasperated, heading for the roof. Steve dumps the second coffee cup into the sink and looks at the abandoned muffin. He holds it out the open window and Bucky's flesh arm snakes down to grab it, thumb brushing against Steve's briefly in thanks. Steve resolutely does not look out the window, because he knows he'll see Bucky hanging precariously from the side of the building by his metal arm and the sight will just set Steve to hyperventilating in worry.

Steve can tell by the knock that his visitor is Natasha, but that won't be enough to get Bucky back inside. He knows Nat's an ally, kind of, but he won't let Steve tell anyone but Sam he's there. Steve lets her in with no word but a raised eyebrow.

“The more you argue with him, the more suspicious he gets,” Natasha says by way of greeting.

“I don't care,” Steve retorts stubbornly. “I'm not letting anyone hunt Bucky down like an animal.”

“We both know Stark will never find him.” Natasha dances around the fact that she, too, suspects Bucky is there with Steve, more for plausible deniability than anything else.

“It's the principle of the thing.”

Natasha smirks. “You and your principles.”

“If you don't have your principles, what do you have?” Steve philosophizes.

“Your life, a lot of times,” Natasha deadpans. “Look. You know I'm on your side. I'll take Stark down as many times as you need me to. I'm just saying...a lot of people are going to agree with him, say there should be some accountability. And he's not going to let this go. He saw the file, Steve. His parents—”

“I know.” Steve has to cut her off, mindful of Bucky up on the roof with enhanced hearing and a bottomless pit of guilt already. “But I'm not going to change my mind.”

Natasha looks at him for a long minute. “Okay,” She finally sighs. “Fine.”

“How's Clint dealing with all this?” Steve asks before she can turn to leave. Clint never chimes in at meetings about whether Bucky's guilty of his crimes, but Steve knows it has to be eating at him to hear Tony rail against the idea of Bucky being brainwashed, saying it's just an excuse to get out of paying his dues. Natasha purses her lips and her nostrils flare.

“He's on our side,” She says simply, and that tells Steve a lot. He dredges up a sad smile.

“You know I never blamed him, either.”

Natasha nods. “He knows,” she assures him. “And for that he'll follow you in this.”

She leaves, but Bucky doesn't come back right away. Steve sticks his head out the window and looks up, but of course he can't see anything.

“Fine, you big jerk,” he mutters. “But you better bring my plate back this time.”

Steve's in the shower when the bathroom door opens. He doesn't jump; he knows it's Bucky. It took months to convince Bucky to shower with him. Bucky always wanted to keep watch, just in case someone tried to attack Steve while he was vulnerable.

“Stop leaving the window open,” Bucky gripes, stripping off his shirt. “I can get it open from the outside and it's dangerous to leave it open.”

“If you can get it open from the outside, other people probably can, too,” Steve points out, moving over so Bucky can get in with him. “So what does it matter?”

“Can we at least keep the low-level criminals out?” Bucky complains, reaching around Steve for the shampoo. He lathers up Steve's hair, scratching his nails against Steve's scalp, and Steve makes an embarrassing little noise. “They're not worth ruining your carpet.”

“You remember my plate?” Steve asks without opening his eyes.

“Yes, Ma, I remembered,” Bucky snips even as he keeps massaging Steve's scalp.

“Well, you didn't last week,” Steve reminds him as they switch places and Steve works through the tangles in Bucky's long hair. “Now I'm down a plate in my set.”

“I'll steal you another,” Bucky promises carelessly, chin dropping to his chest as Steve kneads at the muscles in his neck.

“We could go to that pottery class at the community center and make a new one,” Steve suggests. Bucky starts laughing.

“Sure, Steve. I'm a wanted assassin with an incredibly recognizable cybernetic arm and you're a well-known celebrity. Let's go take a pottery class.”

Steve sniffs imperiously. “Fine. When this all blows over, you'll owe me a pottery class.”

He can't see Bucky's face, but he knows he's smiling sadly from the tone of his voice. “Sure, Stevie,” he says softly. “When this all blows over.”

Steve rests his forehead against the back of Bucky's shoulder, hands on Bucky's hips. “I don't want you to leave.”

Bucky sighs. “I don't want to ruin your whole life here by staying.”

Steve gently turns Bucky around to face him. Really, if Bucky didn't want to, he wouldn't move, but he goes with it. “I'd leave everything here for you.”

“And I'd break your heart to keep you safe,” Bucky tells him, eyes dark.

“I'd just follow you,” Steve repeats the earlier argument. “You can try all you want, but I'm not letting you run because you think you're dangerous for me. If I thought you actually didn't want to be here, I'd let you go.”

“That's not fair,” Bucky says softly. “You know the only place I want to be is here.”

Steve kisses him, long but soft and chaste. “That's why I'd follow you.”

Bucky doesn't say anything else, but Steve can tell he's at least thinking about it. Steve doesn't comment on the bruises on Bucky's side or the scratches on his flesh arm—it looks like he fell on it. He knows Bucky goes out and tracks down HYDRA agents, keeps a lookout for anyone coming after Steve. He kisses the bruises, slides a gentle hand across the scraping, then turns off the water and wraps a thick towel around Bucky's waist.

“Let's go to bed,” he suggests.

“It's seven o'clock.” Bucky points out even as his voice goes scratchy with exhaustion.

“You haven't slept in two days. Or did you sleep while you were out and about?” Steve raises an eyebrow because he knows he's right. Bucky can operate a long time without sleep; so can Steve, but just because they can doesn't mean they should.

They get dressed and Bucky does a last check of the apartment, making sure all the windows are closed and doors are locked. They settle into bed and it takes a few minutes for his muscles to lose their rigidity, to lose his vigilance and relax into Steve. It's his natural state these days, so he has to actively think about loosening up with Steve.

When he finally settles and nuzzles his face into Steve's neck, Steve smiles and turns his head to drop a kiss to Bucky's temple.

“Night, Buck,” he murmurs.

“Night, Steve.”

 

Steve can't tell if Bucky is awake or asleep when he wakes up the next morning. Bucky is completely still, a strange sight compared to the restless boy Steve fell in love with, and the only sign he's even still alive is the tiny puff of breath against Steve's neck. It doesn't really matter if Bucky's awake or not; if he's content to stay there, so is Steve.

But eventually, Bucky can't stand to just lie there, so he wriggles away from Steve and sweeps each room of the apartment. They're not allowed to talk until Bucky's made sure no one crept into the house and planted listening devices while they slept. Steve's not entirely sure how Bucky thinks that might've happened, considering they're both Army-trained light sleepers and Bucky hardly sleeps more than an hour at a time anyway, but he doesn't criticize Bucky's coping mechanisms.

“Clear,” Bucky finally calls from the kitchen, meaning Steve's allowed to get out of bed. When Steve gets out there, Bucky's pulling eggs from the fridge. “Omelet?”

“Sure, thanks, Buck.”

Steve's phone buzzes with a text from Sam. _Sleeping better?_ To anyone checking Steve's phone records, it would sound like he's asking about Steve. Bucky had been hesitant, but when Steve pointed out that Sam was prone to dropping by unexpectedly, Bucky agreed to Steve telling him.

 _Five or six hours last night, I think_. Steve replies. He knows Bucky got up and wandered around for a while, but he slept more than Steve's seen in the almost four months he's been there.

_That's enough for a super soldier?_

_Close enough_. Steve wishes Bucky would sleep more, but he knows that's a bit of a tall order. Five or six hours is almost astronomical.

 _How are you feeling?_ It's a question Sam never forgets to add.

_Stark wants to go after Bucky._

_That's not a feeling_ , Sam shoots back.

 _Frustrated._ Steve acquiesces. _Angry that he thinks Bucky should be a prisoner again._

 _I know, man, but all this is really complicated._ Sam sends another text quickly after the first one. _You know I'm still on your side._

_You always are. Not sure I deserve you._

Bucky slides Steve's plate over to him. “Stop frowning,” he orders. “I made you breakfast—that doesn't get a smile?”

Steve gives him a huge, exaggerated grin that makes Bucky huff out a laugh and elbow him. “What are you doing today?” Steve asks.

Bucky shrugs. “Stay in, maybe, if you don't mind.” He doesn't quite meet Steve's eyes while he says it.

Steve's smile this time isn't fake. “Course I don't mind. We can catch up on some more movies.”

“Are we out of the seventies yet?” Bucky whines.

“You liked _Rocky_ ,” Steve points out. “It's a whole series. We can finish it.”

They're not even halfway through the _Rocky 2_ when Bucky sits up straight, a finger pressed to his lips, tipping his head toward the door. Steve holds his breath and listens, finally hearing a distant sound of footsteps from multiple pairs of feet in heavy boots. Bucky disappears into the bedroom and comes out with Steve's shield and his rifle. He leans the shield against the table, in easy reach from the door, and goes back to the bedroom to duck behind the wall, ready to provide backup if necessary or slip out the bedroom window if there's no threat.

Steve works on keeping his face neutral. Could just be some of his teammates dropping by to check up on him. There's a long pause between the footsteps stopping and the light knock. Steve hesitates an extra second before opening the door so it doesn't seem like he was waiting.

It's not his teammates.

“Captain Rogers, you need to come with us,” the man says calmly. There's five of them in the hallway, dressed like a STRIKE team.

“Come where?” Steve replies just as calmly. “Who are you?”

“I'm Major Samson. The Army requires your presence at a court-martial.”

Steve has to admit, he wasn't expecting that. “I'm not a member of the Army anymore,” he reminds Samson. “I can't be required for anything. Or court-martialed.”

Samson shifts slightly and Steve catches the black glint of a rifle on one of the men in the back. “Look, Captain. It will all be much easier if you come quietly.”

“Easier for you,” Steve agrees. Before Samson can move, Steve whips the shield at him and knocks him out. The men behind him start shouting and coming at Steve, but all of them suddenly drop back, mouths open in horror, and Steve glances over his shoulder to see Bucky standing at his side. Bucky grabs Samson's unconscious body.

“Who are you working for?” He asks the remaining soldiers. They turn and flee. Bucky snorts and drops Samson, heading after them. He's only gone for fifteen minutes before he comes back through the window, panting. He looks over the knots Steve used to tie up Samson, who's watching them with wide eyes and his mouth covered.

“Alive?” Steve checks.

“Yes, I left them alive. Even though they're working for HYDRA.”

“How can you tell?” Steve asks. “You recognize them?”

“None of them were ever high up enough to see me,” Bucky says in an odd mix of disgust and pride. “Real soldiers wouldn't leave their CO behind like that.”

“But how do you know they're HYDRA and not from Tony?”

“I assume Stark knows you well enough to know you're not just going to fall in just because the Army comes calling.” Bucky smirks at him. “Since he's known you for longer than ten minutes.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Well. Now what do we do with them?”

Bucky frowns. “I've just been leaving Stark's guys on his doorstep,” he admits. Steve snorts at the internal picture. He kicks at Samson's chair.

“What about you?” He says darkly. “Any ideas?”

He can't answer, obviously, but he looks like he's about to soil his pants, and that gives Steve a sick little satisfaction.

“I guess we could still take 'em to Tony,” Steve says with a shrug. “He's sort of the new SHIELD.”

“They'll talk.” Bucky shakes his head. “They'll fold in a second and tell him we were both here.”

Steve didn't consider that. He scowls at Samson. “Guess we might have to kill them after we get our information.”

Samson's eyes bug out. Everyone seems to have some idea that Steve's never killed anyone, despite the fact that he was in a war. He doesn't like it, necessarily, but he'll kill anyone he has to if it means keeping Bucky safe.

“ _We_ won't,” Bucky corrects. “You're not doing it.”

“Buck.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“I'm serious, Steve. We're going to keep your hands clean as possible.” Bucky steps away, toward Samson.

“You think my hands are even remotely clean?” Steve argues. “I know you got your memories of the war back. And even if you didn't, you were there in Austria when Sam and I found that base.”

“ _I_ found that base.” Bucky smirks a little as he goads Steve and Steve can't decide if he wants to revel in Bucky teasing or explode because Bucky's being so casual about the fact that he's going to kill five men on his own and not let Steve help.

“Buck,” he says sharply.

Bucky goes rigid. “More people coming.” He darts to the door and peeks around it, then hurries to the window. “Stark.”

Bucky's gone before Tony gets to the door, so he finds Steve's door wide open and Samson bound to a chair with Steve standing off to the side.

“Whoa,” Tony says. “What's this?”

“HYDRA.” Steve shakes his head. “Not sure where he was going to take me, but he said he was Army and I needed to go with him.”

“HYDRA's getting sloppy if they're only sending one guy after you,” Tony sneers at Samson.

“Yeah.” Steve knows Bucky will take care of the other four. He doesn't even know where Bucky stashed them. “I guess they thought I would kowtow to authority.”

Tony snorts. “That's what they teach us in school. What are you going to do with him?”

“I was gonna kill him,” Steve says honestly. Tony looks a little taken aback but recovers quickly.

“Shouldn't we question him first? See who's pulling the strings?”

Steve and Bucky would've done that together if Tony hadn't interrupted them. And Bucky would've gotten the information in under an hour. Now Steve's in the awkward position of trying to talk his way out of this.

“I can handle it,” he tries.

Tony gives him a weird look. “Right here in your living room?”

Steve shrugs. “Thinking of tearing up the carpet and getting hardwood floors anyway.”

“I'll take him back to the Tower, let some of the old SHIELD guys take a crack at him.” Tony pulls out his phone.

“No,” Steve says quickly. “I want to do it. It's personal.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Personal, huh.”

“He came after me,” Steve points out.

Tony just stares at Steve for a minute, rolling his lips thoughtfully. “Where is he, Cap?”

“He's right in front of you.”

“Don't play dumb with me. Where's the Winter Soldier?” Tony looks angry now, but Steve's not worried in the slightest. Even if Tony calls out a suit, Steve can hide from him if he needs to.

“If I knew that, would I be here?” He counters.

“If he's here you would be.”

“Did you come over because you needed something, or did you hear about the HYDRA agent in my living room?” Steve tries to switch gears, but Tony's not taking it.

“Steve.” He takes a step closer. “You're not being objective about this.”

“And you are?” Steve finally blows up. “The only reason you care about bringing him in is because of your parents.”

“Forty. Forty casualties combined from when he went after Fury, the bridge, and the hellicarrier, Rogers. Forty casualties plus his credited thirty-six assassinations over the decades. _That's_ why I want to bring him in.”

“He's not responsible for any of that!”

“How can you possibly know that?” Tony shoots back.

“Because I know him! Imagine if it was Rhodey, or Pepper, or Bruce; you would be doing exactly what I'm—”

“How fucking dare you,” Tony spits. “You think you're above the law?”

“He didn't do anything _against_ the law. Unless a torture victim is somehow guilty now.”

They stand there, breathing heavily, jaws clenched, until Steve takes a deep breath. “Take Samson or don't. I don't care. But get the hell out of my house.”

Tony stalks to the door. “Someone will come to collect him,” he says without turning around.

“Better hurry,” Steve warns. “I'm not as patient as the history books say, either.”

Steve waits until Tony's been gone for fifteen minutes before closing the door and rounding on Samson. “You'll be taken into custody, but don't think I won't break in and kill you if you so much as blink at a picture of the Winter Soldier,” he threatens. He breaks two of Samson's fingers to convince him he's serious.

Steve doesn't talk to any of the recovery team who come for Samson. He only knows them in passing, anyway. Bucky doesn't come back until well into the night, after Steve's given up and gone to bed. He wakes up to the sound of the window sliding open and sits up just in case it isn't Bucky.

Bucky motions at him to lie back down and checks the apartment over. He doesn't come back for a while and Steve gets up to check on him. He's in the bathroom wiping blood from his bare feet. Looks like Steve'll have to get that hardwood floor after all.

“Yours?” Steve asks. Bucky grimaces.

“Some of it. Ran out without my shoes.”

Steve pulls out some bandages and drops to his knees by the tub, where Bucky's perched. They work quietly, a well-known rhythm of cleaning and bandaging from a lifetime of patching each other up.

“Stark take Samson?” Bucky asks once they're done and throwing away the bloodied rags.

“Yeah. I think I convinced him to keep his mouth shut.”

Bucky frowns. “I didn't want you to have to do that.”

“Buck, it's not the first time I've had to do something like that, and I'm sure it's not the last,” Steve says.

“Doesn't mean I like it,” Bucky murmurs. “You're better than all this. I could kill Erskine and the rest of them for turning you into this.”

“Saved you,” Steve points out, then cringes because of the time he hadn't been able to save Bucky and what had happened after. Bucky tweaks Steve's nose.

“Quit,” he orders. “Let's go to bed. We'll plan in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

They don't so much plan as have morning sex and decide to go to DC to visit Sam. Steve's a little surprised, truth be told, that Bucky is suddenly not adamant about having a plan of attack, and he's not naive enough to think it's a nice sign that Bucky's finally settling in.

“I'll meet you there later tonight,” Bucky promises for the third time as he tries to push Steve out the door. “It's not safe to travel together.”

Steve purses his lips. “Buck. Promise me you're really coming? You're not doing all this to just bolt so I won't notice for a day?”

Bucky sighs and frames Steve's face with his hands. “I promise,” he says solemnly. “I will be at Sam's by tonight.”

Steve leans his body against Bucky's. “ETA? And how exactly are you getting there?”

“21:00. And don't worry about it.” Bucky gives Steve a little lopsided smile. “I already checked your bike. It's clear.” He leans in and presses a short kiss to Steve's lips. “Go.”

Steve stares at Bucky for another minute, making sure to look fierce and formidable, just in case Bucky really is lying to him. Bucky stares back steadily and Steve finally huffs, frustrated, because he can't read Bucky anymore.

“21:00,” he parrots back at Bucky. “If you're even a minute late I'm going out to look for you.”

Bucky gives him a sassy salute and practically shoves him out the door. Steve tells himself not to read too much into it or let his thoughts linger during his ride to DC. It doesn't entirely work. He resists the urge to text Bucky's burner phone of the week, because he knows Bucky probably won't respond and then will lecture Steve about things like _security_ and _emergency only_ and _nagging like my ma_ , which is rich coming from the man the Howling Commandos nicknamed Mother Hen Barnes. It's just a little difficult, to have Bucky around but without the ability to communicate constantly. So Steve wants to know where Bucky is, what he's doing, how he's feeling at every second of every day. Is that such a crime?

Steve goes straight to the VA when he gets into DC. He makes it in time to sit in on Sam's last group session of the day. He planned it that way because he knows it'll make Sam happy, and he's right, though he declines to say anything.

“Is this a solo trip?” Sam asks curiously.

“No, my cat's coming, too,” Steve says, smirking at the code. Bucky hadn't objected to Steve pretending he was a cat, but he hadn't exactly laughed about it, either.

“Captain, you have a therapy animal?” A curious bystander asks. Sam almost chokes laughing and Steve just shrugs.

“My cat definitely makes me feel better about everything,” he says with a sappy little smile that makes him kind of glad Bucky isn't here to witness it. It makes Sam laugh even harder, and the woman who'd asked gives Sam a strange look.

“My cat isn't exactly...” Steve struggles for a good way to phrase it.

“House trained,” Sam cuts in. Steve shoots him a look.

“Uh, shelter animal,” Steve comes up with quickly. “Wasn't treated well by the people who had him last.”

She nods sympathetically. “Some people are unbearably cruel.”

Sam's not laughing anymore. Steve has to take a deep breath to steady himself. “That's for sure.”

They get dinner at Sam's favorite by-the-slice pizza place, which Steve loves because they never comment on the fact that he orders five slices at once and never needs a to-go box.

“You know, I went out with Sharon last week,” Sam says with a raised eyebrow. Steve immediately winces, his usual reaction to Sharon's name, and Sam laughs at him.

“I wasn't very nice to her,” Steve admits sheepishly. “She was just doing her job.”

“You had a lot going on,” Sam points out kindly.

Steve shrugs. “So, you two, uh—you like her? One date and that's it, or do you think, you know, maybe there's something?”

“Do I think we're going to get busy making some caramel babies?”

“I didn't—” Steve flushes. “It's probably too early for that. Right?”

Sam grins. “Yeah, man, it was one date. But I like her. We're going out again when she gets back from an assignment.”

“I'm glad,” Steve says, and he means it. “If you're trying to impress her, though, here's my advice: don't go running together.”

“Rogers, I will throw this pizza at your damn head.”

Steve rushes to the counter to get a few slices for Bucky before Sam can make good on his threat.

 

Steve's not even embarrassed to admit he's hovering by the front door at 20:55. He peeks out the window again, but he can't see any kind of indication that anyone's coming.

“Why don't you pick out a movie?” Sam suggests, probably exasperated by Steve's worry.

“Uh—go ahead,” Steve pretends he has any idea what Sam just said.

“I think he can take care of himself,” Sam says pointedly. “Cats are known for that kind of thing.”

Steve sighs. “I know. I'm just worried he's going to run out and not actually show because he thinks I'd be better off.”

Sam opens his mouth to respond but his back door opens before he can say anything. Bucky narrows his eyes at the proximity between Steve and the window, but just shakes his head and does his check for bugs. After he's searched the apartment, he comes back out to the living room with his hands on his hips.

“You want to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to stand where there are _at least_ four direct lines to take you out?”

“I don't think there are any snipers out to shoot me tonight.” Steve barely controls his eye-roll.

“No, I know there aren't, because I checked all the surrounding buildings for vantage points and set up bugs just in case.” Bucky frowns. “That doesn't mean you can just be reckless, Steve.”

“How long did that take you?” Sam cuts in, still behind them on the couch.

“A while. I left an hour after Steve did,” Bucky admits. “I had some things to do.”

“You've been here that long? Have you eaten all day?” Steve fusses.

“Things to do?” Sam echoes. They both ignore him.

“I had a protein bar,” Bucky says this like it's enough to get Steve off his back. He's sorely mistaken.

“Come on, I'll heat you up some pizza.”

“I like pizza.”

“I know you do. And I got you mushrooms.”

“Okay, yeah, fine, I'll just sit here by myself,” Sam calls after them. “Don't make out in my kitchen!”

 

Steve and Sam go for a run in the morning, while Bucky stays behind to guard the apartment. He knows he's being overly paranoid, and at home he can tramp down on that somewhat—Steve usually coaxes him into a morning run about three times a week, as long as they go before the sun's up and wear hoods. But his routines are all off since they're at Sam's, and it makes him jittery.

Bucky wishes he could convince himself they're all safe and nothing's going to happen so he could relax, but he just can't. Part of that comes from the fact that's about eighty percent sure they're _not_ safe. Practically the whole country is out for Bucky's blood, not to mention various illicit terrorist groups who want to capture him and use him.

HYDRA's still out there, and the whole organization wants him or Steve or both and it's not like they're going to ask nicely. They're smaller than they were, cut off from resources they had before, but Bucky still knows what they're capable of, and it leaves him antsy the whole time Steve and Sam are gone.

He's checked and rechecked the apartment for explosives and listening devices, even going through Sam's dresser to make sure nothing's hidden beneath his socks. He did that one quickly and clinically—he doesn't care about the state of Sam's underwear drawer, not on a personal level—but he doesn't plan on telling Sam or Steve he did it. He knows Sam would have a talk with him about boundaries again and there's only so many times he can say _don't need boundaries when you're dead_ before Steve will spontaneously combust with a mixture of grief and rage at what happened to Bucky.

They come back laughing and shoving each other a little, roughhousing in a way Bucky sort of remembers doing with Steve. The sight of it hurts Bucky's stomach a little, because he can't bring himself to do that, to play fight with Steve. The memory of his metal fist cracking against Steve's face is too sharp to let him put Steve in a headlock and give him a noogie, no matter how much Steve deserves it. Bucky's glad Steve has Sam.

“Did you see anyone?” Bucky asks, hating to put a damper on their good mood but unwilling to risk the consequences if he doesn't.

“We saw some other joggers,” Sam tells him. He watches with a raised eyebrow while Bucky pats Steve down, checking him over, but doesn't say anything. Sometimes Bucky gets anxious around Sam because he's worried Sam is watching everything he does through his therapist lens. He knows, in his head, it's probably not true, because Sam is just a regular guy, Steve's friend, when he's not at work, but it still makes him nervous sometimes. He wonders if Sam thinks Bucky is the craziest person to ever come home from war.  
  
Bucky starts to reach for Sam and stops himself. “Can...I check you?” He asks, haltingly. He never asks Steve because...well, he's used to having pretty much free reign over Steve's body. Steve has the same with Bucky's.

Sam beams at him proudly. “That's what I'm talking about. Consent. Boundaries. Sure, Barnes, do your worst.”

“Probably could've skipped Steve and just checked you,” Bucky does his best to sound joking. He's teasing. He can tease. He spent twenty-odd years of his life thinking of nothing more than ways to tease Steve. “His clothes are so tight you'd be able to see if anyone stuck something on him.”

Sam cracks up laughing while Steve scowls. “The man at the store told me tighter clothes were better for exercising.”

“That's because he wanted to reap the benefits.” Sam gestures at Steve's abs, clearly visible through the material clinging to his torso. “Probably got a promotion and a medal.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I'm taking a shower.”

“Don't take all the hot water,” Sam warns. “You think I won't get in there with you?”

“Better not,” Bucky deadpans. “I don't think there's room for all three of us.”

Sam makes various distressed noises of disgust while Steve laughs and Bucky revels in the sight of Steve's smile. The worst part of being so paranoid all the time is the way it makes Steve feel bad. Steve's got a healthy dose of paranoia, too, considering he's been running special ops since the days of the Commandos, but some of Bucky's issues aren't regular-grade stuff. Rolling under the bed when someone approaches the bedroom is the kind of paranoia that makes Steve break things.

Sam and Bucky eat breakfast together while Steve showers. It's only a little awkward. Luckily, they've had a few good interactions since the multiple times Bucky tried to kill Sam.

“So,” Sam starts, an eyebrow raised, and Bucky feels a little cold dread go through him. Is Sam going to try to make him talk? “Stark wants you to come in, huh?”

Bucky chews nervously at his lip. “I killed his parents.”

“It's personal for him,” Sam agrees. Bucky looks down at the half-eaten cereal in his bowl, going slightly soggy. Is Sam going to say he agrees with Stark?

“It's personal for a lot of people,” Bucky mumbles.

“Mm.” Sam watches Bucky for a minute and Bucky gets the urge to cover his face with his hands. “But you're good enough to dodge him?”

“Huh?” Bucky looks up quickly. Sam's smiling a little.

“You're not going to just let Stark grab you.”

“Well—I mean, yeah, I'm good enough that he won't find me unless I let him.”

Sam leans closer. “Look, Barnes, I'm not going to pretend I don't see where Stark's coming from, a little bit. People want to know someone's locked up for what happened. But there's no way in hell I think that someone should be you.”

“Really?” It slips out before Bucky can stop it, which is strange considering how much time he spends trying to force words out of his mouth. Bucky knows Steve doesn't think Bucky's guilty, but Steve almost doesn't count. He somehow simultaneously doesn't count and is the only person who does count. But Steve would never in a million years believe Bucky guilty of anything more than being a little too eager to please (an urge he's had his whole life that has a whole different set of implications and ramifications these days) and a bit of a grouch in the morning.

“Really,” Sam confirms. “I think you're a good egg, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Embarrassingly, Bucky almost feels like he's going to cry. He just nods, because he can't say anything around the lump in his throat. Sam is a good person. Sam is good in a way that's different than how Steve is good. Steve is good, but Bucky knows all the bad things, too, like how dramatic Steve can be or the way he's incredibly self-righteous and gets condescending when he's arguing with someone. As far as Bucky understands, Sam is just Good with a capital G and his only shortcomings are his bad morning breath and his love of trashy reality TV shows.

“What's for breakfast?” Steve cuts in, all pink from the hot water and annoyingly bright-eyed when it's not even seven am. Bucky throws a chunk of banana at him and Sam follows it with a spoon and Steve feigns being crushed by their rudeness and once Sam slips away to shower Bucky steals a kiss or four because he wants to.

They spend the day sightseeing. It puts Bucky a little on edge, because he's technically on the run, but he knows how to avoid security cameras and strangers' eyes. It's easy to disappear when you've been trained to do so.

It's a strange vacation, really, considering how fucked everything in their lives is at the moment, but Steve needed it and Bucky's always gotten reckless when it comes to getting Steve what he needs. They spend too much time in front of Sam's big picture window in the living room and leave the lights on too long and eat too many baked goods that won't sustain energy levels for long, but it puts a smile on Steve's face and a spring in his step, so Bucky only complains a little.

Steve is easy and relaxed at the end of the weekend, and Bucky's stomach clenches at what he's about to do. The whole point of this trip was to get Steve relaxed and off-guard, because he's been watching Bucky like a hawk.

“See you at home,” Steve says as he mounts his bike. He looks dorky as could be in a sweater Sam's mom knit for him and his leather jacket on top, but Bucky finds it disgustingly endearing. Bucky slings an arm around Steve's neck, the way he used to when Steve was shorter than him, and gives him a little squeeze.

“Bye.”

Steve looks like sunshine as he rides off, and Bucky stays longer than he should to watch him get smaller and smaller. Bucky is about to do what he promised—he's going to break Steve's heart to keep him safe. He's leaving. He'll go back to New York, of course, because he needs to be near enough to know if someone's going after Steve, but he's not going to stay in Steve's house and cozy up in bed. It isn't safe enough, not when even Steve's own team is against him this time.

He just didn't really think about how much it would break his own heart to do it.

 

Steve waits up for Bucky, but by midnight, he's still not back, and Steve's got a pit in the bottom of his stomach that tells him something's wrong. _Maybe it's okay_ , he tells himself. Maybe Bucky will climb into bed after Steve's asleep like he's done a hundred times before. Steve doesn't know what Bucky does, exactly, when he prowls around all hours of the day and night. Maybe he's just doing some more of that.

But Bucky still hasn't come back the next morning, and Steve knows. He left.

 _My cat's not back_ , he texts Sam with shaking fingers.

_He usually there by now?_

_Sometimes he's gone for a few days at a time_ , Steve admits.

_Give it time, man._

Steve does give it time. He gives it two hours after he eats breakfast and then he decides that's enough time. He puts on his shoes and his jacket, grabs his shield, and gets on his bike. He knows the chances of him finding Bucky when Bucky's purposefully hiding are almost zero, but he can't just sit around waiting. He has to at least look.

He looks for nearly three hours and gets spitting mad. Bucky promised he wasn't going to do this. They talked about it and Steve thought he made Bucky see that leaving would be pointless. And yet here Steve is, wandering around the city looking for Bucky. He's pissed, even more so because he's pretty sure Bucky is somewhere close and just not letting Steve see him.

“Yeah, well, fuck you!” Steve yells behind him into the bushes at Prospect Park. A scandalized woman hurries her kid away. His mood is not improved in the slightest when his phone beeps with a notification from JARVIS.

_Sir wishes all team members meet for a discussion about security concerns at Stark Tower._

Steve blows out a long, frustrated breath. If he has to sit through another round-table of Tony's thinly-veiled criticisms of Bucky's character and Steve's motives, he'll probably end up breaking more than fancy chairs. He shoots off a text to Natasha.

_Tell Stark I can't come in for another pointless meeting. Better things to do._

_I'm not your messenger._

Steve doesn't stop to think before firing back, _Sorry for thinking you're my friend._

He's about to text Tony himself when his phone buzzes with a call from Natasha.

“Don't give me this shit.” She lays into him as soon as he answers. “I know you're not actually perfect all the time the way the American public seems to think you are, but do not take out your issues on me. You and Stark need to quit your dick-waving contest and get your heads out of your asses and I am not going to play your middle man while you work it out.”

She hangs up before he can apologize. And Steve knows she's right, knows he shouldn't have lashed out at her like that, and knows her hissed words were hiding how much he hurt her feelings with his jab about her not being his friend, but rather than feel guilty, it gets him more angry.

This is another reason he needs Bucky around. Steve has always had a tendency to get defensive and self-righteous, even—especially—when he knows he's wrong, and Bucky always had his number. More than once, an argument ended with Bucky gritting out, “You're sorry and I know you're sorry so shut the fuck up and quit talking to me about this.” And then they'd get back to their daily routines and Steve would sheepishly try to make it up to Bucky without words.

But Bucky isn't here, and Steve's on the war path.

He spends the rest of the day stomping around bad-temperedly, avoiding crowds and ducking his face away so people won't recognize him. He can't be happy Captain America today and won't be able to fake cheer when a child asks for an autograph.

Steve goes back to his apartment and doesn't sweep for bugs just because he knows Bucky, wherever he is tailing Steve, would want him to. He throws his keys on the coffee table hard enough to hear an ominous sort of crack from the glass top and slams the cupboard doors around. And then he sits on the couch with his shoulders slumped, because the worst part of his anger is the crash afterward. This is when Bucky's supposed to be around to let him cuddle close on the couch and distract him from feeling badly about himself.

 _I'm sorry_ , he texts Natasha, too cowardly to call.

_I know._

He decides not to push his luck by asking if he's forgiven. He covers his face with his hands. The most frustrating thing in his life is getting Bucky back, but only in increments. Steve can handle Bucky being different—Steve's different, too, and their time apart made both of them sharper, rougher around the edges than they once were. But Steve hates that he gets Bucky back only for Bucky to duck out without warning. It was bad enough before, when Bucky would disappear for a day or two and come home bruised and bleeding. Steve can't convince himself Bucky will come limping in two days from now to burrow under the covers and into Steve's arms. The trip to Sam's had been Bucky's idea, and Steve can see it now for the calculated distraction it was.

 _Stark wanted to talk about an attempted breach at the Tower._ Clint texts him a little later. _Someone tried to hack into JARVIS._ Steve can't decide if this is some kind of truce from Natasha or if Clint just took it upon himself to fill Steve in.

_Is that a security problem on an Avengers scale?_

_Apparently Stark's got files and stuff on all of us. Plus we don't really want HYDRA getting Tony's tech._ Clint points out.

_Right. Any leads?_

_Stark spent a long time ranting about some guy named Calloway. Works with Justin Hammer. Apparently one of Stark's many nemesises. Nemeses?_

He ignores the grammar question, because he's pretty sure it's nemeses but his only basis for that belief is that nemesises sounds intensely foolish. _Is Tony handling this or is it a mission?_

_We never really came to a conclusion._

Steve rolls his eyes and turns on the news while he makes himself something to eat because the silence makes him want to climb the walls. He mostly tunes out the fluff pieces—a new lion cub at the zoo, a teenager who donated all his childhood toys to a children's hospital—and frowns and shakes his head through the story about a school district refusing to renegotiate teacher contracts and salaries. He's starting to wash up when the Stark Industries logo pops up on a wall behind a podium, where Tony's holding a press conference.

“The take down of SHIELD and HYDRA left many people scared and confused,” Tony says, a well-tailored suit a familiar look for him but the seriousness on his face not. “Stark Industries, with the help of the Avengers, is committed to continued safety and intelligence gathering, but with more transparency than its predecessors. HYDRA was able to grow within SHIELD because of compromises SHIELD made to keep the public safe, and many of those compromises never came to light and SHIELD never faced any accountability. We are ready to learn from the mistakes of those who have gone before us to make things better this time around.”

“Mr. Stark, are you saying you're starting your own intelligence agency with the Avengers?”

“There is a spot in the intelligence and protection community that needs to be filled.” It's neither a confirmation nor denial and Steve stares at the TV. They've never mentioned going public about this, and surely Clint would've mentioned if they'd talked about it today. As far as Steve knew, their plan has been to keep fighting HYDRA and the odd alien or terrorist group that pops up, but they were only retaining the Avengers name, not the SHIELD insignia.

“Mr. Stark, what about DC's metal armed assassin? As far as the public knows, he's still at large. Will the Avengers bring him to justice?”

Steve holds his breath. Surely Tony won't do this to him. He knows Tony is confused about the whole situation, and messed up over the revelation that HYDRA used Bucky to kill Howard and Maria, but Tony wouldn't completely go behind his back like this, would he?

“The Avengers will be doing everything in their power to apprehend the Winter Soldier, as well as root out remaining members of HYDRA and make sure they're brought to light from whatever dark hole they're hiding in,” Tony confirms. Steve's phone immediately starts buzzing.

Sam Wilson: ???????????????????

Hawkguy: _Whoa. That definitely did not come up in the meeting today._

Widow: _He did not discuss this with us. I would not have agreed to this._

Steve ignores the messages. He barely remembers to lock the door behind him in his rush to get outside. He hops on his bike and rides directly to the Tower. He blows past the receptionist, who ducks at the thunderclouds on his face, and asks JARVIS to speed up the elevator down to Tony's lab.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Steve bursts out of the elevator, already prepped for a fight. Tony narrows his eyes at him.

“The Avengers as an organization apprehend criminals. I merely promised—”

“You _merely_ used the Avengers name without getting a unanimous decision from the team. You made it seem like this is something we all agreed to when you're the only one who wants it. You don't speak for the team.”

“My money does, apparently,” Tony shoots out. “If I'm going to be funding our entire outfit, I figure I can make some branding determinations.”

“I'm not going to be part of a team that starts a witch hunt. I was on ice for Senator McCarthy, but I read all about it. It's not recognized as a great part of our history.”

“Are you saying you're not going to be part of this team anymore?”

Tony's question hangs between them for a long moment, almost palpably suspended in the air. Steve looks at Tony, takes in his startled face and wide eyes but the stubborn jut to his chin. Steve squares his shoulders and raises his own head high so he can look Tony directly in the eye.

“I guess that's what I'm saying.”

He turns and leaves without waiting for another word.

 

In all honesty, not a lot actually changes after Steve's dramatic exit. He still wakes up and goes running every morning. He still keeps an eye out for Bucky, though it's not hopeful. He leaves food on the windowsill but Bucky doesn't take it. His afternoons are kind of long and empty, devoid of the space that used to be occupied with going to the Tower for meetings for sparring sessions or lunch get-togethers.

He listlessly tries to watch some more movies on his list, but he doesn't want to do it alone when he and Bucky have been doing it together for the last four months. The questions he encounters when he goes out and awkward enough to keep him hiding in his apartment a lot.

“Captain, you haven't been seen around Stark Tower lately.”

“Captain, how close are the Avengers to finding the Winter Soldier?”

“Captain, how is working for Stark Industries different than working for SHIELD?”

He spends a few weeks lounging around in his apartment and taking long rides on his motorcycle and drawing Bucky. He starts out when he's still angry, so he does caricatures, highlighting the things Bucky used to be self-conscious about—his high forehead, the bump on his left ear, the cleft in his chin. But it only takes two or three days before Steve misses him too much and goes back to romanticizing everything about Bucky, and the sketches get softer and more intimate.

He winces as he watches the news and hears about people being pulled out of their jobs, terrified, as Tony sends black-suited agents to interrogate them. Steve knows that Tony has the best intelligence, so if he's interrogating these people there's a high chance they're actually HYDRA and Tony has solid evidence about that. But it still makes Steve's blood boil to see news footage of a man dragged away from his dinner table, with his kids looking on in horror. They don't have any kind of jurisdiction to do this.

“I'm trying to convince him to retract his statement,” Natasha says on the phone one day. “And realize he's not being logical about all this. I mean, if he really wanted to go after the Winter Soldier, announcing his plan to do so was an incredibly sloppy move.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, idly sketching out Natasha wagging a finger in Tony's face. Tony is very short because Steve is very petty. “Listen.” He clears his throat. “I'm sorry about what I said before—”

“I know,” Natasha cuts him off. “It's fine.” She's uncomfortable with apologies. She'd probably prefer Bucky's method of getting over it and pretending it never happened, but Steve hates that he made her feel bad, even for one second. In this, his second chance at life, he's trying to be better at apologies, because he was terrible at them the first time around. He spent too many nights lying awake thinking Bucky died before he could apologize for various grievances; he doesn't want to go through that again.

“You _are_ my friend,” he reassures her. She huffs.

“Okay,” she says drily, but he hears the smirk. “Clint wants to make edible arrows.”

She launches into a story about Clint's newest harebrained idea, and Steve knows he's forgiven. He keeps an eye out for more of the guys Bucky caught, the ones Tony apparently sent to dig up dirt on him, but either Tony stopped sending them or Bucky's been getting to them before they can get close enough for Steve to notice them.

It's been almost three weeks since Steve and Tony had their show down when Steve gets a stiff, formal text from Tony. _Please come to Stark Tower for an important meeting today at 2:15._

Steve thinks Tony is going to apologize, call off the manhunt. He's ready to accept that. He shows up promptly and reports to Conference Room 3, where Natasha, Clint, and Thor are already waiting.

“Captain!” Thor greets him enthusiastically. “It has been long since we've met together.”

“Hi, Thor,” Steve smiles. “How are the Warriors Three?”

Bruce comes in not long after Steve gets there, and then Tony comes in with Maria Hill. Fury is still out of the country, playing dead and staying under the radar. Tony claps his hands together.

“Should we get down to brass tacks? Everyone get enough danish? Thor?” He looks right at Steve. “Alright, Cap, are you done with your prima donna phase now?”

Steve's mouth drops open. “Excuse me?”

“Your temper tantrum-fueled threat to leave the Avengers. Are we over it?” Tony's gaze keeps sliding just to the left of Steve's face, a sure sign he's uncomfortable. Steve clenches his fists.

“I told you I wouldn't be part of a team that hunts innocent people on only the word of one man's computer programs,” he points out, voice even. “If you're still planning the Avengers do that, then I'm still gone.”

The room's quiet for a minute. “Well,” Tony says. “We are still going to proceed to do the job we should, which is bringing down HDYRA. That includes the Winter Soldier.”

Steve's shaking his head before Tony's done. “With what authority, Tony? Did Congress vote to give Stark Industries federal jurisdiction to investigate and interrogate?”

“We have an understanding with various federal agencies,” Hill cuts in tightly. Steve stares at her for a minute and then nods.

“Okay, so you're on board with Tony's plan, obviously. Interesting, considering you were okay with taking down SHIELD in the first place.”

“We're rebuilding, Steve,” she says, almost gently. “We're starting over.”

“This isn't a good place to start.”

“Look, I get it. You're still firmly team Winter Soldier.” Tony throws his hands up. “But don't _you_ get it? People are scared. We have to do _something_.”

“I'm not going to do something wrong for the sake of action,” Steve grits his teeth.

“Steve, couldn't we just bring him in to show he isn't accountable?” Bruce tries.

“I hate to disagree with you, Captain, but I do think we should look into his mind and determine if his intentions were pure or not when he acted.” Thor looks apologetic. Steve's jaw is clenched and he's trying to think of something to say when Clint, very quietly, says,

“No one made me prove myself when I was brainwashed.”

The room goes silent. Bruce is staring down at the table top, looking unsettled. Thor frowns, incredibly grave.

“We saw the tell-tale signs of Loki's magic on you,” he says. “Those of us with experience saw it easily.”

“I saw it easily in Bucky,” Steve argues. “I have experience here.”

“Captain,” Thor starts kindly. “I know what it is to wish your brother had not—”  
  
“Don't compare Loki to Bucky!” Steve's on his feet before he can help it. “Loki wanted to rule everyone, he wanted people to bow to him, he didn't care who he hurt. You know what Bucky wanted? _Nothing_. During all that, the only reason he wanted to complete his missions was so they'd put him back in cryo and he could be blank again and wouldn't have to go through their _torture_. Bucky didn't have a choice.”

“We just want to see if what you're saying is scientifically possible,” Bruce says hesitantly.

“It's possible,” Natasha interrupts flatly. Everyone falls silent again.

“It sounds like you've been talking to him,” Tony accuses. Steve just glares at him, not even dignifying it with an answer. Steve clasps his hands in front of him and looks down at them.

“If this is what this new SHIELD is going to be, if this is what the Avengers is going to be, I can't be part of it,” he says quietly. “It's not just Bucky. It's pulling people away with their children watching, and shaky jurisdictional grounds, and questionable interrogation methods. If we're going to start over, we need to be better.”

“This is the way the intelligence game is played,” Hill tells him. “These are the new rules.”

“Then...” Steve takes a deep breath. “I won't be playing.”

“I'm with Cap,” Clint stands. Natasha stands, too, but doesn't say anything, because Natasha rarely feels the need to explain herself.

“Are you going to fight us?” Bruce asks in a small voice. He still looks unsure, like he doesn't know the right decision here.

“Not if we don't have to,” Steve assures him. He wishes it wasn't coming to this. These people have been his friends for years now. But right is right, and Bucky is Bucky. “But I won't have my name attached to this.”

Natasha and Clint leave the room. Steve is following them when Tony stops him. “Cap. You're saying you're siding with the Winter Soldier?”

Steve looks down at his boots for a second. “If there are sides to take, I'm on Bucky's side,” he confirms. “That's not a question you need to ask me again, because the answer will never change.”


	3. Chapter 3

Steve isn't entirely sure how to proceed now that he's officially broken away from the Avengers. It is, truth be told, a lot like that time period when he first woke up and drifted for a while, no orders to follow and no idea what he wanted to do with himself as a free man.

And now, just like then, he doesn't have Bucky.

But at least this time he has Clint and Natasha. They have sparring sessions on the roof of the apartment building Clint owns, and Clint makes them duck and hide when his elderly tenants/neighbors come up.

“I really don't want to have to explain this,” he mutters out the side of his mouth as Steve and Natasha wedge painfully close together to hide behind an air conditioning unit while an old woman spreads bird seed for the pigeons.

He wakes up one morning to find a damp towel on the edge of his bed and a note beside his head. _Check for bugs you lazy bum. P.S. You're out of milk._

Steve crumples the note angrily. He's not surprised he didn't hear Bucky come in and wander around; for one thing, Bucky is basically silent these days, and for another, Steve's body doesn't register Bucky as a threat and doesn't wake up unless Bucky gives him a reason to. But how did he sleep through Bucky taking a shower? He desperately smooths out the note and reads it a few times like an utter sap, staring over the familiar lopsided letters. He checks for bugs.

“Your apartment is like, crazy safe from snipers,” Clint points out one night around a mouthful of pizza. “They'd have to be an amazing shot to get you with these angles.”  
  
Steve swallows hard and focuses on shredding the napkin in his hand. “Yeah,” he says quietly. Bucky picked this apartment. Natasha smoothly changes the subject to ask Clint if he's heard from Kate since she left for California.

Thor and Bruce are both obviously worried he hates them now. Thor sends him some fancy cupcakes from one of the many boutiques around, with a note that says _I am sorry for our disagreement and comparing your brother to mine_. The delivery girl raises an eyebrow when she sees Steve; she probably thinks he's a jilted lover. He sends Thor some cupcakes back and apologizes for being insensitive about Loki. Thor can't help it if his brother turned out to be a mass murderer, and Steve doesn't blame him if he still loves the guy.

Bruce texts him one day, says simply, _I'm not saying your friend is guilty of anything._

Steve's stomach twists a little, because he knows Bruce has led a hard life and hates to think he's adding to any worries Bruce has. _I know_ , he texts back. _I appreciate that. But it's just really personal for me._

 _I understand._ Bruce answers. _I just feel some obligation to check his mental state. I ran in his position, too, and a lot of people got hurt because of it. I want you to know we would actually help him and not just use him._

Steve blows out a long breath. It's not that he thinks Bruce is lying, exactly, but he doesn't think Bruce truly understands how negatively Bucky will react to even the hint of being locked up. _I trust you._ He says. _But he doesn't deserve to be treated even like a suspect, let alone a criminal._ Steve has to go for a run after that, because his emotions are skittering away from him.

He wonders if he should get a job, a regular, non-superhero type job. It seems like a waste of the serum Dr. Erskine gave him. But he thinks about maybe becoming a fireman; his super strength and rapid healing would certainly come in handy, and he'd get to save people.

“You could go back to school,” Sam suggests one weekend when Steve goes to visit him. Steve snorts and almost loses some of his ice scream to his scorn.

“School was never my favorite thing.”

“Hey, go get yourself a masters in social work and you can do VA work here with me.”

Steve doesn't think he'd be good at that, although he wouldn't necessarily have to talk about his own problems. He'd just have to listen. But he's not as patient or level-headed as Sam. He thinks maybe no one is.

“Have you ever thought of reenlisting?” Sam asks.

“I have, actually,” Steve admits. He looks down into his bowl, thinking hard on how to word his next thought. “I believed in my war,” he says carefully. After all, Sam had enlisted with what the armed forces are embroiled in now. Steve doesn't want to offend him.

“Yeah.” Sam smiles, a little bitterly. “I thought I did, too, at first.”

Steve nods. He understands that, too, in a way; no matter how much you believe in your cause, war is hell, and fighting makes cynics of the best soldiers, even just for a while.

“Honestly, I thought I'd be able to go visit the moon by now,” Steve says, more to make Sam laugh than anything else. It works.

“Oh, I'm sorry our modern technological advances haven't gone fast enough for you, Gramps. I'm telling Sharon you said that. You're ridiculous.”

Steve is making cookies one day, because Sam thinks baking will be therapeutic for Steve and keeps sending him recipes. Also Sam wants to eat the cookies so he wants Steve to get good at baking them before bringing them to him. Honestly, part of Steve secretly hopes he'll be able to lead Bucky home by the sweet tooth. He's wearing a _Kiss the Cook!_ apron Natasha bought him, covered in flour and grumbling under his breath because he thinks the consistency of the dough is wrong, when someone hammers on his door. He jumps and makes sure his shield is within arm's length before he opens the door. It's Tony, breathing hard and eyes wide.

“What the hell did you do with him?” He shouts.

“What?” Steve pulls back, no idea what Tony's talking about.

“Samson! Why'd you do it?”

“Do _what_? What do you mean, what did I do with him? _You_ had him.” Steve narrows his eyes. “Did he break out?”

“You had to have helped him,” Tony accuses. “There's no way he got out on his own.”

“Why would I help him?” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “He's HYDRA.”

“Your boy toy must have done it.” Tony sounds like realization is dawning on him and it's making Steve angrier. “You're covering for him.”

“There's no way Bucky busted a HYDRA agent out of a secure facility,” Steve hisses. It's not entirely true; there is _one_ way, and that's that Bucky then killed him. But until Tony shows up with security footage of Bucky doing it, Steve won't believe it.

“Where are they?”

“I have no idea where either of them are,” Steve says coldly. “But I know Bucky didn't help Samson and neither did I.”

“We have to track them down.”

“I don't have to do anything,” Steve points out. “I'm not an Avenger anymore.” He is concerned about the fact that Samson got out of the Tower's holding cells. He doesn't think it was Bucky, but obviously someone helped him, and that can't be a good sign.

“Are you really so determined to blindly stand by your friend you'll let a HYDRA agent go free?” Tony asks incredulously. Steve fights the urge to punch the wall beside Tony's head. He's too big to throw his weight around like that anymore; he's genuinely intimidating now and could hurt someone. He takes a deep breath and counts to ten before he lets it out.

“Bucky had nothing to do with this.” He keeps his voice as calm as possible. “If you get a lead on where Samson might be and need my help, I will go, independent of Stark Industries or the Avengers, to track down Samson and Samson only.”

Tony shakes his head and walks away. Steve shuts the door and then faces the biggest window in the living room and raises his arms, palms facing the ceiling, the way he's been wordlessly asking Bucky _what the hell_ since they were about twelve. He has no idea if Bucky can even see him and feels a little foolish.

Steve dumps the cookie dough in the trash and yanks off the apron. He's not in a baking mood anymore.

It only takes two days for the shoe to drop. Steve is a little on edge, since Samson's out there somewhere with help and Bucky's in the wind. It's not like HYDRA's likely to even find Bucky, let alone overpower him, but what if there's some kind of remote homing device implanted somewhere in him? Bucky dug the tracking device out of his own flesh shoulder, but HYDRA's sure to have thought of other tricks.

Steve's started watching the news almost religiously; even if HYDRA's laying low, there might be something seemingly innocent that Steve could recognize as HYDRA activity. He wants to track Samson on his own, but he has no leads, no intelligence to use to find him, so he figures the news is as good a start as any. Tony holds another press conference. As soon as his face pops up on the screen, Steve rolls his eyes, then he sits forward eagerly, hoping Tony's announcing they've found Samson. They didn't make an announcement the first time they—Steve and Bucky, _not_ Tony—captured him, but Steve wouldn't be surprised if Tony plays it off like he's been on the loose this whole time and Tony just apprehended him. Steve won't even hold it against him, as long as Samson's locked up.

“A HYDRA agent named Adam Samson was in custody at Stark Tower,” Tony starts. “And he has escaped. He has received aid, and our intelligence leads us to believe that aid was from the Winter Soldier.”

“That's not true,” Steve growls at his TV.

“We can only conclude that they're planning to rebuild HYDRA. We are focusing all our energy and our intelligence on recapturing Samson and capturing the Winter Soldier. We want the public to stay on high alert and call our tip line if you have any information.”

“Mr. Stark, how could he have escaped? I thought you said Stark Tower was the most secure facility in the country.”

“He could only have escaped with outside help,” Tony says grimly. “The Winter Soldier is highly skilled and covert and has shown before that he is adept with HYDRA's advanced technology.”

“That doesn't mean he helped Samson escape,” Steve argues even though no one can hear him.

“Mr. Stark, why haven't we seen Captain America helping the Avengers?” The reporter's question brings a clamor of agreement from the others gathered around.

“Captain America is no longer affiliated with the Avengers,” Tony tells the crowd stiffly. The crowd erupts, reporters shouting questions and trying to push their cameras closer to Tony.

“Captain America isn't an Avenger anymore?”

“Captain America has decided his allegiance lies with the Winter Soldier,” Tony says. It's pandemonium for a moment, no questions coming through because everyone's talking over each other.

“Why would he do that?” One reporter finally gets his voice to carry over everyone else. “He almost died fighting the Winter Soldier in DC and he put himself into the ice to take HYDRA down during the war.”

“He believes the Winter Soldier isn't responsible for his actions and can be rehabilitated,” Tony tells the crowd, and Steve at least has to give him props for mentioning it. He doesn't even sound completely scornful.

“Not responsible?” Someone yells. “We all saw him killing people!”

“Why does Captain America think that?”

“Are you working to bring Captain America in, too?”

That seems to be the one Tony wants to address. “As of right now, Captain America is simply on his own. But if we receive any evidence that he is working with the Winter Soldier, we will bring Captain America in.”

Everyone starts shouting again and Steve almost turns off the TV.

“Mr. Stark, are you telling us Captain America's a traitor? The last time someone tried to get the American public to believe that, the person saying it was the traitor. Why should we ever believe anyone else's word against Captain America when he's the only one who's proven over and over we can trust him?”

The other reporters chime in, and everyone seems to agree with the woman who spoke up. Steve feels a little overwhelmed for a second. He's not even there and people are willing to take his word over anyone else's. They're willing to believe him even over Tony, and Steve knows how public opinion is so often swayed by money and power, two things Tony never runs short of.

“I'm not saying Captain America is a traitor.” Tony holds up his hands placatingly. “I would never even insinuate that. You can't get further from a traitor than Cap. I'm just saying Captain America's trust is currently misplaced. He wants to bring out the best in everyone, and sometimes he doesn't see that some people have no best to bring out.”

Steve shakes his head at the miniature Tony on the screen. “Not misplaced,” he mutters, feeling a little foolish about talking to the TV. It's the same way Bucky used to mutter at the screen when they went to the pictures, though Steve suspects a lot of that was for his benefit, too.

“What evidence does Captain America have that the Winter Soldier isn't responsible?”

“He has no credible evidence,” Tony announces. Steve feels himself start to seethe. No credible evidence? The fact that Bucky didn't even know who he was isn't credible evidence? He has the file Natasha got for him, but he gave it to Bucky. Steve doesn't know where it is now, and he wouldn't use it without Bucky's permission anyway. If that's all that counts as evidence, fine, Tony's right, but Steve thinks his word should count for something. Why build him up as such a pinnacle for truth and justice and then turn around and not believe him?

“Captain America isn't a traitor, but the Winter Soldier is.”

Steve brings his fist down on the coffee table and the glass, cracked from Steve losing control earlier, can't take anymore. It shatters under his hand and he gasps and then swears as blood wells up around the shards of glass in his skin.

“Oops,” he says, then starts giggling almost maniacally. His emotions are off the charts right now. He has no idea how to deal with any of this. He pictures Bucky watching him through a scope, shaking his head and cursing under his breath about what a punk Steve is, and he starts laughing harder.

“How am I doing without you, Buck?” Steve chortles. “Real safe, huh? No HYDRA agents, but you gotta look out for those sinister coffee tables.”

He picks glass out of his hand and steps carefully over the mess to wash off the blood and press a towel to the wound. It's not very deep; it'll be completely healed before he goes to bed. His coffee table, though, is done for.

“Sorry,” Steve says to the table, and then he starts laughing again because he's talking to a coffee table. The window slides open and Steve jumps, his heart in his throat, thinking it's Bucky, finally here to scold Steve for being so careless with his own blood. It's Natasha, and he tries not to look too disappointed.

“What the hell?” She looks between his hand and the pile that used to be a coffee table, shaking her head. “So I guess you saw the press conference.”

“Were you at Clint's?” Steve asks. “You had to have been at Clint's. There's no way you could've gotten here that fast if you were anywhere else.”

Natasha just shrugs. “Don't worry about where I was,” she says cryptically. She goes to the bathroom and brings out his first aid kit.

“I don't really need that,” Steve tells her. “It'll heal in about three hours.”

“You just want to bleed on your carpet until then?” She asks, ignoring his argument and wrapping gauze around his hand. “So, you got a plan, Cap?” She quirks an eyebrow at the nickname. She only ever uses it facetiously. He rolls his eyes.

“Apparently if I keep my head down like a good little boy Tony will leave me alone,” he says bitterly. “I'm still going to look for Samson. I just don't know where to start.”

“I have a lead.”

“You have a lead?” He asks, not sure why he's surprised. Of course she does.

“Calloway. The one Tony was all up in arms about the day you threw a hissy fit and wouldn't come to the meeting.” She holds up a finger commandingly, cutting off his argument before he even opens his mouth. “He works with Justin Hammer, who's been one of Tony's competitors for a while now. They're after the suit, but I think he got a better offer.”  
  
“So, he's just some high-tech crook?” Steve scoffs. “Why would HYDRA need him?”

“He goes by Spymaster,” Natasha snorts. “But HYDRA obviously made a good call on him, since he was able to get into the Tower.”

“Spymaster?” Steve echoes, and they laugh a little meanly considering Steve wears Kevlar and tights.

“Spymaster has—”

“A secret lair?” Steve guesses.

“Guarded by dragons, obviously,” Natasha deadpans. “He has an apartment in the city; I doubt he'll still be there, but we can check.”

“Let's go now.” Steve stands up, his whole body antsy to get to work after nearly a month of nothing. Natasha glances at his hand.

“I can't in good conscience advocate that you go spying with that hand.”

Steve makes a face. “You know we've both done more with worse.”

She smiles a little. “I had to at least say it. Otherwise I'd get in trouble.”

Steve knows that Natasha doesn't let things slip out; every word she says is calculated and deliberate. That's why his head snaps up so fast. “Bucky?” Natasha tips her head toward Steve but doesn't say anything. “He's been talking to you?”

“Talking's a broad term.”

“Nat, where is he?” Steve asks desperately.

“You know I won't tell you that.” At least she sounds a little apologetic. “He's doing what he thinks is right, Steve. That's important.”

Steve slumps a little and she actually takes pity on him. She pats the gauze on his hand and wraps a little tape around it to keep it in place. “Shall we?” She asks.

He recognizes it as a consolation prize, but if that's all he's going to get at the moment, he'll take it. As Natasha predicted, Calloway isn't there; the door's taped off with police line they both ignore and Natasha jimmies the lock effortlessly.

“I'm guessing Stark sent the police after the break-in at the Tower,” she says as they poke around.

There doesn't seem to be any further information in the apartment and Steve feels disappointed. He knows if Natasha thinks it's true, Calloway must be working with Samson now, but he needs to know where and on what.

“Hello,” Natasha says to a drawer she's emptying. She holds up a piece of paper to the light.

“Coordinates?” He wishes he knew where it would take them off the top of his head, but luckily Natasha puts it into her phone.

“It's Capitol Hill,” She says. “Interesting.”

“You think HYDRA's planning an attack on Congress?” Steve feels like his eyebrows are all the way up into his hairline by now. Bold move, _Spymaster_.

“Probably just one member of Congress,” Natasha corrects. “They certainly don't have the resources for something as large-scale as all of Congress.”

“Guess we better go visit Sam.”

“Not tonight,” she says firmly. “You're going to sleep tonight and I should probably give you some lecture about bundling up against the cold.” She rolls her eyes a little and Steve wants to laugh and cry at the same time because that's definitely Bucky coming out in her voice. “Plus, it would be rude for the three of us to show up at Sam's in the middle of the night.”

“The three of us?” Steve gets excited, thinking she means Bucky.

“Clint.” She has an edge to her tone, like she knows exactly who Steve was thinking of and doesn't appreciate that he forgot Clint. He gives her a sheepish look and she shakes her head, but he sees the fondness in her eyes.

“Alright,” he agrees. “First thing in the morning, we'll go.”

“And what are we going to do, Steve? Camp out in front of the building and look for Calloway? Do you even know what he looks like?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it. Well, she has a point. He didn't really think ahead beyond “go to the coordinates.” She laughs at him.

“We'll leave in the morning and I'll brief you on the plan.”

“I'm so glad you're on my side.”

Steve goes home and unwraps his hand. There's a scab over the wound, but that will be gone soon. He's about to pop into the shower when someone knocks on his door. He looks through the peephole cautiously. It's a kid, really, a guy who can't be older than twenty. He even has braces. Steve opens the door.

“Hi.” The kid's eyes go starry when he sees Steve. “Um—Cap—Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah, that's me,” Steve says, a little unnecessary given the look on the kid's face. The kid thrusts an envelope at Steve.

“It's, uh, it's a subpoena,” he says. “Sorry.”

“A subpoena?” Steve echoes.

“Sorry.” The kid repeats. Steve waves off his apology. It's not like the subpoena's personally from this guy. The kid sort of hovers and Steve realizes he probably wants a picture or an autograph, so he gives the kid both and sends him on his way beaming.

Steve shakes his head as he reads the papers in the envelope. A subpoena to appear before a Congressional hearing. At Capitol Hill. The same place Calloway and, ostensibly, HYDRA are going. What a coincidence.


	4. Chapter 4

“This changes things,” Natasha says grimly after he calls her and tells her about the subpoena. “This changes almost everything, actually.”

“Why? They'll know I'm there, but who cares?” As far as Steve's concerned, stealth has its time and place, but strength is still pretty handy.

“You should care,” she responds sharply. “Steve, we have to look at this as an orchestrated event. They're probably planning to capture you and trade you for Barnes. They want him back.”

“They can't have him,” Steve growls.

“I know that.” She pauses for a minute. “We should tell Stark.”

“Why?” Steve can't help how petulant he sounds.

“They're trying to capture you. It's HYDRA, plus the man who pulled off breaking into Stark Tower. Stark will want him.”

“Fine.” Steve tries not to sound like a whiny child. This isn't some schoolyard argument; this is people's lives and, possibly, national security.

He and Tony keep the phone call short and civilized, but Steve can't help but point out, “Bucky obviously didn't help bust Samson out if Samson's out to get me to bring Bucky back.”

“This has never been about my grudge,” Tony says tiredly. “I know you think I'm incapable of human emotion, but I'm not completely unmoved by the idea of seventy years of torture.”

There's an awkward pause before Steve, a little chagrined, admits quietly, “I know you're not incapable of human emotion.”

Another pause. “Anyway, we'll take the jet. I'm going to be stinking drunk the whole time to pretend _this_ conversation never happened.” Tony hangs up and Steve rolls his eyes. It feels a little like a truce, at least for now. Maybe it's the first stone in a bridge they can build.

Steve carefully writes out a note that he leaves on the windowsill where he still leaves food. _Off to Washington_ , he informs possibly no one. _Subpoena to testify in front of Congress. Possible HYDRA activity at same place._ He adds a quick doodle of himself standing in front of faceless bodies and tossing the shield at a dark figure in the corner.

Sam and Rhodey are waiting for them on the landing pad when they get to Washington. Tony has Sam's new wings in the jet with them and Rhodey's going to be in the room while Steve testifies. Steve isn't entirely clear on Rhodey's job, but apparently saving the President affords you all kinds of leeway. Rhodey frowns disapprovingly and takes the tumbler of scotch out of Tony's hands.

“Am I going to have to start pushing for a new law about drunk superheroing?”

Tony waves a hand around. “You know it takes more than one drink to get me drunk. Or, you know, four.”

“We all know JARVIS does all the real work anyway,” Natasha says with a challenging raised eyebrow. Clint snorts and Tony sniffs.

“Well, I created JARVIS,” he points out. “So even if that was true, it's still basically me doing the work.”

“Somehow I do not think JARVIS would appreciate that thought,” Thor murmurs to Steve. Bruce had decided to stay at the Tower with Hill, in case Calloway was waiting for everyone to be gone so he could break in again. Bruce also worries about bringing out the other guy in heavily populated and historically significant places.

“I already destroyed Harlem,” he'd said wryly. “Let's not take out the nation's capitol.”

“Can I see them?” Sam asks excitedly, practically bouncing. “They work, right? I'm not gonna splat on the concrete when I try to fly?”

“Have you ever seen _me_ splat on the concrete?” Tony fires back.

“Just because we haven't seen it doesn't mean it didn't happen,” Rhodey mutters.

For all her teasing, Natasha's plan isn't really much more than camping out on Capitol Hill and waiting. Steve will go in and testify at the specified time; they're assuming Samson will go for him as he exits the building. Steve has his shield, but he isn't wearing his tactical suit because it could be taken as a sign of aggression to the congressional committee. He feels awkward and exposed in a regular black suit and tie and keeps tugging at his collar. His mother would despair of his manners. Bucky would loosen his tie and pop the top button for him, tease him about how his head's gotten too fat to dress sharp anymore.

They all take comms and Clint is the first to leave, off to get into position up high. They're surrounding the building as best they can, but the Capitol Complex area is so large it's an awkward formation. Usually they have some kind of police force to give them a perimeter, but their hunch isn't really strong enough to shut down streets and pull in local officers. Steve is loathe to go inside and leave the rest of the team to fight without him if something goes wrong inside.

Tony puts the suit on and Rhodey dons the gauntlets. He can't exactly wear the Iron Patriot armor into the congressional hearing, but at least he'll be ready if anything happens.

“Hawkeye, are you in position?” Steve asks as Natasha and Thor set off to take their places on the other side of the building. Steve can't help but glance around at rooftops, wondering where Bucky might be. If he followed Steve. Steve's pretty sure he did.

“Just about. Currently scaling the building. _While_ talking on the comms. In case anyone wanted to doubt my multitasking skills again.”

“The comms are hands-free,” Natasha cuts in. “You're just talking and climbing.”

“In position,” Clint says haughtily instead of responding to Natasha.

“Alright. Thor?”

“I am by the pool, Captain.”

“Widow?”

“Positioned.”

“Falcon, Iron Man, you ready to go when necessary?”

“Wings on!” Sam shouts in everyone's ear. Steve laughs at how excited he sounds.

“Always ready,” Tony say cockily.

“Alright. Here we go.” Steve and Rhodey start walking up the steps. They're not even two steps up when the visitor's center doors burst open and robots start streaming out. Steve feels a flash of panic, thinking of Ultron, but Rhodey pulls out his sidearm and drops one, sending up sparks. Not nearly as hardy as Ultron.

“We've got robots!” Steve yells into the comm.

“ _Robots_?” Tony echoes. “Oh, come on.”

“Uh, Tony, why isn't my suit coming?” Rhodey demands.

“Are you doing it right?”

“I'm doing it right, Tony!” Rhodey continues shooting robots and Steve gets the shield involved.

“HYDRA team on this side of the building,” Natasha reports grimly.

“In my area, as well,” Thor chimes in. Steve swears loudly.

“Hawkeye, keep eyes on Widow and Thor and offer assistance,” Steve orders.

“The suit is not coming,” Rhodey tells Steve. “I don't know what's going on.”

“Falcon, come pick up Iron Patriot. The two of you go around and offer air support to Widow and Thor,” Steve decides quickly. He wants Sam's medical skills closest to Natasha and Clint, who don't have super healing or metal armor to protect them. “Iron Man, get in the air and start shooting robots.”

“Aye, aye, Cap!” Sam swoops in quickly and Rhodey grabs the harness. He shoots a few more robots as they fly away.

Tony blasts the robots while Steve slings his shield. The robots aren't hard to take down, but there's an _army_ of them. More burst out of the building as fast as they can cut them down. And then gunshots start joining their fight; Steve snaps his head around to the surrounding rooftops, knowing it's Bucky.

“What the hell?” Tony pants.

“Bucky,” Steve breathes, watching more robots drop. They're coming out of the building more slowly; maybe they're almost to the end. He throws his shield at one of the larger robots and the shield gets stuck with a hideous clang of metal on metal. It stops the robot, but it's wedged in the thing's face plate. Steve starts to move closer to retrieve it. He feels a stunning, hot blast of pain in his back, and then everything's black.

 

Bucky's screaming before Steve falls to the pavement. He leaps from the tree limb he's been sitting in, strapping his rifle to his back as he runs and yanking a pistol out to keep the bots from overtaking Steve's prone body. As soon as he gets close enough, he simultaneously shoots and strikes with his metal arm.

There are still laser beams or whatever they are coming from Stark, up in the air, but Bucky lets blind rage guide him. He's four steps from Steve's body when Samson comes out of the building, arms crossed over his chest, with some scrawny guy holding some kind of remote control in his hands.

“How did your friend Iron Patriot appreciate us teleporting his armor?” The little guy crows. He's got metal braces over his teeth. Stark swoops in, ready to fire, and the guy throws a disc. It latches on to Stark's armor, the kid hits a button on the remote, and Stark's laser arm thing is...gone. Vanished.

“Teleporter discs!” The guy yells gleefully. They'd planned on Stark being there. Bucky thinks grimly to himself that they got the drop on the Avengers because good people are too easy to manipulate. The braces guy throws more discs, taking Stark's armor piece by piece. He gets a repulsor before Stark can fly away, and Stark crashes to the ground with a painful groan.

“Soldier, bring me the Captain,” Samson orders. He's apparently figured out who Bucky is. Bucky's lip lifts in a snarl and he's cutting a swath through the robots to get to Samson when Samson smirks.

“Sputnik,” he says calmly.

Bucky's whole body freezes and he drops to the ground. He can't move anything, not even the metal arm. He can barely breathe, and his breath starts to gasp out of him as he borders on panic. Samson is heading toward Steve, almost lazily, sidestepping robots. He's got a blade in his hand.

 _Breathe_ , Bucky orders himself. It works. _Move._

He can only manage to get to his knees before he seizes up again. Samson frowns slightly. “Sputnik,” he calls out again. Bucky doesn't feel any worse; it must only work once, and Bucky doesn't think it worked the way Samson planned it to. Suck it, HYDRA.

“I don't think so,” he growls. He can't seem to stand, but from his knees he can still raise his hand jerkily to throw a knife and lodge it directly in Samson's heart. He drops and Bucky pants, willing his legs to keep going. He drags himself over to Steve.

“Stevie,” Bucky mumbles. He hears that kid with the braces laughing and looks up. Most of Stark's armor is gone now, and the kid's got a gun. Bucky pushes himself back up to his knees and drops the kid with a bullet to the head. Maybe later he'll feel bad about having to take down someone who couldn't be older than nineteen or twenty, but for now he's a little preoccupied. Stark's in a bad way, on the ground and bleeding, and he turns wide eyes at Bucky. Bucky doesn't care. Steve's on the ground, not moving, and there are still robots getting closer.

“Steve!” Sam comes swooping overhead like a goddamn angel and Bucky could cry.

“Out of ammo!” The guy Sam's carrying calls out. Bucky pulls another pistol from his hip and holds it up. Sam glides close enough for the guy to grab it and Sam takes Bucky's other handgun. The two of them take out the rest of the robots while Bucky prostrates himself over Steve, feeling for a pulse, a breath, anything. He can see the hole in the back of Steve's jacket where Samson shot him.

“Steve, no,” Bucky hears himself moaning. He rolls Steve over as best he can so Steve's head is in his lap. “Come on, pal, come on.” Steve's breathing, but he isn't opening his eyes. Bucky doesn't see any blood, but he can't figure out why Steve's not awake. “You in there? Huh, you big lug? Who the fuck goes to battle in a suit and tie? God, you're so reckless I could kill you myself.”

Bucky can't tune out the sounds around him; gunshots, screeches of metal, the whir of the robots moving, the other Avengers coming around to join in the fray with the robots, but it's all coming less frequently so he figures the robots are almost gone. He looks up to see Sam's landed, crouched nearby, pulling stuff out of his med kit attached to his belt.

And then—and _then_. Steve, the big fool, he breathes in sharply and his eyelashes flutter like it's a fucking beauty pageant and then his eyes are open and staring glassily up at Bucky.

“Oh,” he says, then he grins loopily. “Hi, Buck.”

“Hi, Buck,” Bucky echoes, breath stuttering with relief. “Hi, Buck, he says to me.”

Sam comes over, gets hands on Steve and looks him over. “He shot you in the back, man,” Sam says, his voice as shaky as Bucky's but his hands steady as he starts pulling Steve's suit jacket off.

“I wore a Kevlar vest under my shirt,” Steve reports proudly. He has the gall to look fucking _smug_. “Didn't see _that_ under my tight clothes, did ya?”

 

Steve is pacing impatiently outside Conference Room 3. Inside, Bucky is giving a statement to Bruce, who is apparently going to give the word on whether he believes Bucky was brainwashed to the point that he's not accountable for his actions. Natasha is in there, too, as a buffer between the sides and as their resident expert on Soviet brainwashing. Steve wasn't allowed in because he wouldn't be objective and, he knows, there are some things Bucky's not quite ready for Steve to hear. It makes Steve ache a little to think about it, the fact that Bucky wants to hide things from him. Is he worried what Steve will think? Doesn't he know by now that nothing could change Steve's opinion of him? Still, Steve didn't push. If Bucky wants privacy, Steve's not going to intrude on that.

Steve wanted Bucky to run for it once he saw Steve was up and moving, but he knew while he suggested it that it wasn't going to happen. Bucky's in the Tower, talking to Bruce, because he knew he couldn't avoid it and stay with Steve. Bucky's always had a tendency to hover after Steve's been hurt or sick, and now's no different. He barely let go of Steve's hand until he went into the conference room.

Tony's a little ways down the hallway, not pacing because his left ankle is broken, but waiting for the verdict all the same. Thor and Rhodey are sitting on either side of him, probably on Pepper's orders to make sure Tony doesn't get up. Hill is standing beside the bench the three of them are sitting on. Clint's leaning against the wall halfway between the two groups, like a sort of peacemaker.

“S'posed to be resting,” Sam reminds Steve with no heat, standing behind him as Steve turns around to keep pacing.

“I'm not doing anything,” Steve says defensively. He doesn't have to look at Sam to know he just rolled his eyes. Pacing doesn't count as exertion. The hallway's barely long enough for him to get five steps in before he has to turn around.

The door opens and Steve leaps back. Bruce comes out first, face gray, looking disturbed. Everyone looks at him expectantly. In the split second before he says anything, Steve feels his whole body go calm. He knows that Bruce understands now. He's holding the Winter Soldier file. He knows what Bucky went through. There's no way Bruce could hear about those monstrosities and not understand that Bucky chose none of it.

“There's extensive evidence of brainwashing,” he says gently, eyes flickering over to Tony for a second. “We'd like brain scans, when you're ready for that.” He turns around to say to Bucky, who's sort of hovering behind him, staring at the carpet. “I'm honored to meet you, Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky hunches his shoulders a little but takes Bruce's offered hand and shakes.

Natasha slips out past Bucky and goes to stand by Clint, brushing a hand across Steve's arm as she goes. Tony stands up, obediently leaning his weight on his crutches. Steve meets his eyes for a second and then Tony shifts his gaze to Bucky. He gives one short nod and then turns and leaves. Pepper is waiting just down the hall, and he goes straight to her. She glances around his head to smile at everyone gathered there. Rhodey gives everyone a half-wave, half-salute, then follows Tony.

Steve knows everything's not perfect, that Tony is still going to struggle with accepting Bucky, but he's going to try and he's not hunting him anymore, and Steve will take it for now.

“I am sorry for the things you've lived through,” Thor says solemnly, shaking Bucky's hand. He looks right into Bucky's eyes. “I saw the way you protected the Captain. You seem a good man to me.”

Bucky blinks a few times as Thor walks away, biting his lip. Sam jostles him a little. “Told you,” he says. Bucky shrugs.

“You won't have to worry about us pursuing you any further,” Hill promises. “Though I can't say we won't try to get you to join the team.” Steve has a brief pang of regret, sort of, because once upon a time Bucky would've feigned disappointment and made a crack about _pursuing_ a pretty lady. Now, though, Bucky just nods.

Everyone sort of wanders off, though Steve knows they'll be around. Clint wants to shoot with Bucky, halfway between awe at Bucky's skill and competitively wanting to challenge him. Bucky and Clint will get along swimmingly.

Steve and Bucky are left staring at each other.

“Hi, Steve,” Bucky says. Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky's never going to let him live that down. He'd hit his head on the ground when the force of the bullet knocked him down and he'd been a little out of it when he woke up.

“My back is bruised, you know,” Steve tells him. “It's not like I escaped that completely unscathed.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to help your case?”

“Thought you might feel bad for me.” Steve puts his hands in his pockets. He's pretty sure Bucky's going to come home now. They can fight HYDRA together; Bucky left because he didn't want Steve to lose his team. Now that it isn't a problem, surely Bucky will come home.

“Mad at you, more like,” Bucky says. “Quit getting hurt. I made a promise not to let you be so reckless, you know.”

“Promise to who?” Steve asks, confused. He can't think of anyone Bucky would feel responsible to, especially not about Steve.

“Peggy.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Went to see her when we visited Sam.” That's fitting, probably; the two great loves of Steve's life rolling their eyes over him and despairing of his self-preservation tactics. Steve feels a little smile quirk up the side of his mouth but doesn't say anything.

He can't read what's going through Bucky's mind and it's starting to make him antsy. If Bucky leaves, Steve doesn't know what he'll do. He knows he'll survive; he can live without Bucky. He's done it before and he can do it again. But he certainly doesn't _want_ to. He pulls at his collar.

Bucky shakes his head and steps closer. Steve had lost the tie on the plane after he'd stripped off his shirt and Kevlar vest so Sam could make sure he was really okay, but he'd done up all the buttons when he put his shirt back on. Bucky reaches out and pops the top one for him.

“Big neck,” he comments. Steve laughs a little, because it's sort of a strange thing to say.

“Coming home?” Steve asks softly, like maybe if he says it too loud Bucky will say no.

Bucky sighs and puts his elbow up on Steve's shoulder, rests his head against his hand and uses his other hand to trace a line down Steve's jaw. “Where you go, I go.” He murmurs, echoing Steve's words from the beginning of this whole ordeal. “Can't you see that by now?”

“Sure,” Steve licks his lips. “But are you actually going to come _with_ me this time?”

Bucky nudges Steve's nose with his own. “Don't sass me, punk, or I'll change my mind.”

Steve tips his head down and kisses Bucky. “What's that mean, jerk? That a yes?”

“Guess so.” Bucky kisses him again. “Once upon a time some bozo said 'til the end of the line and now I'm stuck to that.”

“You said it first,” Steve reminds him against his lips.

“Some form of me,” Bucky agrees. “'Sides, can't leave you alone at that apartment too long. You're _shit_ at checking for bugs.”

“I did it a few times,” Steve protests.

“Didn't find the one I left in the bedroom.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Lord have mercy on my soul, the things you say when you're jack—”

Steve's ears are flaming but he cuts Bucky off with a kiss anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

“Buck, are you sure can you handle this?” Steve asks quietly so no one else will hear.

“I said I can do it, Steve. I can do it,” Bucky shoots back fiercely.

“You don't have to,” Steve reminds him. “I won't think any less of you.”

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky hisses. He turns his attention back to the clay in his hands, which he's furiously trying to smooth into a non-lopsided bowl. Steve, the little shit, made a perfect replica of the plate Bucky lost and is now happily producing mugs and little figurines of all the Avengers. His ears go bright red as he spends an extra amount of time lovingly crafting the shape of Bucky's ass and Bucky laughs so hard he accidentally flattens half the bowl and has to start over again.

Art isn't exactly Bucky's strong suit, never has been, but hell if he's going to back out now, _especially_ with that smug little smile Steve keeps shooting his mound of clay. Steve knows he's challenging Bucky and goading him into trying harder, and trying harder is usually when Bucky screws it up more. The bowl's getting smaller and smaller as Bucky tries to even out the sides. He keeps thinking if he just takes a little more off the left side it'll be even with the right. He's one of the best marksmen in the world. He makes calculations and adjustments and can hit a moving target at 2750 yards. _Why can't he figure out how much clay to take off this goddamn bowl_.

“I'll make the best damn bowl you've ever seen,” Bucky mutters to himself. A few days ago, Steve had jokingly brought up the pottery class he'd once said Bucky owed him. Bucky knew he was kidding, but he'd waited until Steve was gone to get back on the website and sign them up.

Bucky Barnes is a man of his word.

The little girl across the table from him looks scornfully at his bowl and he sticks his tongue out at her. She sticks hers out right back and he throws a tiny piece of clay at her. She gasps, completely offended, and throws a piece. It doesn't even come close to Bucky and he makes a face at her.

“No throwing clay!” The middle-aged woman in charge scolds them both. Their sudden solidarity over her fun-sucking makes Bucky's chest ache a little as he thinks of his little sisters. He remembers little play fights like this, throwing bits of bread at Becca and messing with her braids.

“Real mature, Buck.” Steve quirks an eyebrow but he's beaming, really, his smile a little soft with fondness that makes Bucky duck his head a little because sometimes he still can't believe he gets that look directed at him. He could never believe it before the War and he still can't believe it now.

Bucky's not going to go into business making pottery anytime soon or anything like that, but the class is sort of fun and definitely worth it to see how much fun Steve is having. Even if Steve's such a perfectionist he smashes down the little mini-Hawkeye three times and starts over because he isn't getting the Clint-to-bow ratio correct.

This is, apparently, the kind of date people go on here in the future. A grandmotherly woman exclaimed over what a cute couple they are when they walked in. It's nice. Bucky had flinched just a little when she'd said it, and he's a little wary of the fact that there's only one exit to the room they're in, but he's handling it. He did, after all, tell Steve they'd do this when everything blew over.

And when his mind starts slipping to the ways he could defend himself with wet clay should the need arise, he looks over at Steve and sees his pink cheeks and starry eyes as he shaves some extra clay off Sam's wings. Steve's having a ball and Bucky can suffer through a lot for that. Besides, he reflects to himself as the little girl runs around the table to show him the right way to pinch the edges to make a lip around the edge of the bowl, he's not exactly suffering.

Steve, the utter sap, refuses to eat cereal out of any other bowl once they've gotten the monstrosity home. The thing is truly hideous; when they'd gotten to the painting part of the class, Bucky kept adding more and more colors until really none of them looked good together. It genuinely looks like a child made it and Bucky winces every time he sees it.

“Steve,” Bucky groans more than once. “Just let me throw that thing away.”

“No way,” Steve always exclaims, personally offended by the idea. “You made it and you gave it to me. It's my favorite bowl.”

“It's an eyesore,” Bucky informs him. “It looks like something a kid made in school. While on some kind of drug.” Bucky shakes his head at the unfortunate bowl. Steve doesn't care. He washes and dries it carefully by hand every day when he's done with it.

Bucky goes with Steve to hand out the figures to the team, even though he feels awkward around everyone except Natasha and Clint and spends a good deal of time hunched uncomfortably in a corner with his head down. Everyone is very excited when Steve presents their mini-selves to them. Clint wants to put his in his pocket and carry it around with him and Natasha can't completely fight the smile that pops onto her face when she sees the sassy pose Steve put her in. Even Stark laughs happily and thanks Steve, though his eyes narrow as he sets his Iron Man down next to Pepper's figurine.

“Why is Pepper so much taller than me?” He asks, then sets Rhodey down next to Iron Man. “And Rhodey? Really?” Everyone avoids each other's eyes for a minute while he mutters to himself. Steve might _possibly_ have made the mini Iron Man shorter than truly necessary, because Steve might _possibly_ still be harboring a small grudge. Stark could have denounced Steve publicly and Steve would've forgiven him faster than he is for the fact that Stark had any doubts about Bucky whatsoever. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, and Steve even knows that, because he knows Stark had good reasons, but Steve and Bucky are never quite completely logical when it comes to each other.

Stark gives Bucky an awkward sort of nod. Things are still a little tense, but they're working on it. Stark kind of hates that Bucky saved his life, because he doesn't like to be indebted to anyone, and Bucky makes an effort to be as civil as possible when Stark gets all hyperactive and starts poking around at his arm. They have a sort of understanding—Bucky knows Stark was held captive once, too—and occasionally sit in silence together at 3 am after nightmares drove each of them from their beds when Steve and Bucky are staying over at the Tower.

Maria Hill looks sort of stunned when Steve gives her the little replica of herself, like she can't believe Steve included her, and Bucky wants to tell her to get used to it, join the club. Steve would never leave anyone out. He also gives her a tiny Fury, eye-patch and all, and asks her to get it to the man in question. Everyone loves that one.

It's silly, really, but even on a bad day, when Bucky sees Steve slurping up the drops of milk that spilled over the shorter side of the garish bowl Bucky made, the noise in Bucky's head dies down a little. He doesn't have to be perfect for Steve. Steve is ready and willing to give up anything he has if that's what Bucky needs. Bucky can be lopsided and ugly and not as useful as he used to be, not as useful as he _should_ be, and it won't matter to Steve. Steve loves him no matter what.


End file.
